


Ma'iovru.

by Houdinimag



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Kid Fic, M/M, Romance, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2018-11-04 22:41:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11000520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Houdinimag/pseuds/Houdinimag
Summary: A typical (or not) elven inquisitor fiction. Nazir has a dark past both as a Dalish and now as a hired Master Thief. Story begins shortly before the Rift opens, when Nazir's heart was cold for all except one - his daughter. Seeking methods of safety for her, he gets hired by a bandit chief, who seeing his unique talents gives him a dangerous errand. Stealing from royalty was quite a feat, but from the Divine herself? Creators, guide his path...(LOOKING FOR MORE AUTHORS)





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Story will develop very slowly. Like one small chapter a month. Have fun :)

Nazir rode swiftly through the night on a black elk, his long mane billowing behind in pleasant waves like pure silk on washing lines. They galloped hard and fast between the green hills of Hinterlands, passing by lonely travellers and roaming templars who still hunted for apostates. The days were filled with refugees searching for safe place to settle and battles fought in large valleys where blood of rebels flowed freely. Truth to be told, no one was actually safe these days when people's minds were ruled by overwhelming paranoia that turned friends into foes. Even a simple farmer could be caught in the crossfire of the mage-templar war. Thus, Nazir chose the night to pass through Hinterlands as quickly and silently as possible.

 

He rode the main path until it split in two and then followed the left turn, that led to a road between rocks and tiny cliffs covered with birches.

Most bandits and rebels were asleep right now, recharging their energies for another day of senseless fighting, but Nazir preferred to act cautiously anyway. There was no guarantee that some lone shemlen guarding their camp would just let him pass without emptying pockets of his cold corpse first. He didn't carry much, just a bag filled with small food supplies for the journey but in these times of chaos they were considered a treasure worthy all the gold in Orzammar.

 

He passed a small river and entered a narrow valley, hidden in the shadow of tall oaks and birches that filled it to the brims. Soon, he saw a medium-height wooden barricade fitted between two large rocks which had two archers stationed on them as a watch, plus a giant guardian in heavy armour standing at the main entrance.  The rogues surveyed the area carefully while their hands twitched upon crossbow triggers, ready to shoot first and ask questions later. They didn't notice Nazir yet, as he stood with his mount hidden behind a tall oak and a pair of bushes. He was certain however, that they wouldn't hesitate to pin him with arrows if he stepped forward without previous announcement. And then loot his body. Better be careful here.

 

He dismounted the black elk and patted its neck before tying it up to the nearest branch. Then, he squatted, cupped two hands together and made a hooting sound which echoed into the night.

The archers roused from their positions and quickly looked around but didn't raise an alarm. It was just an owl...but a strange sounding owl, if you ask them.

The huge guard noticed their sudden moves and turned around to one of them.

"What is it?", he asked in a whispered voice, but Nazir's elven ears caught every word loud and clear.

"Probably nothin'...", the first archer muttered, lowering his weapon with some hesitation.

The elf hooted again in the same pattern as before and that had finally roused the guards full attention.

"Nothin' my ass... Who's there?!", he shouted at the wall of trees and sheathed out a large rusty maul from its place on his back. He waved it dangerously about as if showing the enemy his power and strength might draw them away from barricades.

Nazir took it as his cue to respond safely.

"It's me, Nazir! Let me pass!", he called out.

The archers shifted nervously in place and gave each other questioning glances. The metal brute however, hid his pommel back on its place while grumbling irritably.

"Maker's breath, do you have to scare us like that every time?", he groaned under the helmet. Elf's lips twitched slightly in a small smile.

"It's a pleasure, shemlen"

"Why not come by day, like a normal hum....em...whatever? you know?", he said." get you business done without playing tricks in the shadows!".

Nazir responded with silence but the mischievous smirk never left his face. The huge guard eventually let him pass without more fuss, though he kept muttering about sneaky rabbits here and there.

The elven man walked further on, through a small valley of bulging rocks and lonely thin trees sprouting between them. Eventually, he entered and open space behind another gigantic hill and looked up to see an enormous building, towering over an equally huge pond. It belonged to some royal shemlen in the past but the bandits now took their place, since it was abandoned for some time and made themselves at home. On a small tower, separated from the main building, stood a few guards watching for any intruders. When Nazir was quite close, they called down.

"Who's coming?!"

The elf didn't look up from under his black hood and only stretched out his left hand in the air and clicked three times, creating small sparks of fire each time. The guard seemed to understand the sign as one of them gave a shout to other guards to let the elf inside. They continued their watch after that.

Great wooden doors creaked as they opened. Nazir walked in.

 

Once inside, the elf immediately strode through the small court, upstairs and right until he saw a row of closed doors on the second floor. He knocked on the last door with a metal handle and a black painting of a handprint. The sound echoed quietly throughout the keep.

A voice barked from the inside and Nazir turned the brass handle to walk into the room.

The space clearly belonged to a chief of sorts, since it was filled with rather nice-looking furniture, clean red bed sheets and a large pile of documents, papers and letter on a beautifully carved desk. A few candles lit the area as well as the person inhabiting it. The "chief" was a tall, bald and muscled man with a dark brown unkempt beard and a pair of small but sharp eyes, which were now watching the late visitor.

Nazir closed the door softly behind him and sat on a nearby chair, stretching his legs left and right. The Chief scoffed at that.

"You're late", he said.

 "I know", the elf replied calmly "but I've got what you wanted".

To prove his words, he reached deep into his leather satchel and pulled out two letters. Their brims were covered with a broken red seal, which used to take shape of a royal crest.

The bald man lifted his brow as if trying to convey his slight surprise.

"Let me see them."

The elf passed the letters without hesitation and watched as his employer read their contents. He read all of them calmly, though once or twice his lips curled in disgust and after he finished, they stretched in a nasty sneer. He put the letters in the drawer of the desk and then turned towards the elf.

"Impressive. How did you do it?"

"Does it really matter?"

"...I guess not.", he muttered after a moment. "I asked out of simple curiosity."

The elf did not respond back, but remained sat on the chair as if waiting for something to happen. He nodded.

The bandit chief  turned toward a small metal safe which stood next to his bed and kneeled down to open it. A few creaks and clinks later he closed the safe and stood up, this time with both hands full of brown small sacks. Noticing them, the elf frowned slightly.

"What's that?", he asked slowly.

"Your payment.", said the man and he threw the sacks to the elf who caught them with quick reflex. Nazir furrowed his brows even more, this time eyeing the chief with great suspicion.

"And the girl?"

The bald man chuckled and as he did that, his beard bounced slightly on top of his chest.

"What about her? She's perfectly safe if that's what you're asking."

"I want to see her."

"Hehehe, I don't think so.", he chuckled. "After another errand maybe." 

There was a moment of silence before the elf suddenly sprang right up and roughly pulled the man's beard down. At the same time, his dagger pressed against the man's throat but Nazir underestimated his opponents strength as he got pushed back with a brute force, which nearly toppled him over. The man reach with his arms to grab the elf, but the rogue was much quicker and slide right under him, to make a rounding manoeuvre and kick him hard in the nuts. Squeal and whine. Gasp and pant. The two scuffled for the next thirty second before Nazir finally got pinned to the wall with both huge bear-paws.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!", the chief rasped and panted near his face, nearly spitting.

"Keep your end of the deal, Shem! You promised!", he growled back struggling against the vice strong grip. He tried to break it, but it was futile as the man had not been named the bandit chief without a reason.

"I promised nothing! I gave her a shelter in exchange for your skills and that's how you repay me, you little cunt?! I could kill you right now!", at these words he strengthen his grip on Nazir's neck and the elf felt it much harder to breathe.

"Not...before I kill...you..."

The chief suddenly felt something sharp nudging him in the belly and he realised it was one of the rogue's poisoned daggers. If one drop touched his blood, he would be dead before anyone noticed. They were at a standstill. Either one of them surrendered or killed the other.

As the time ticked by and the elf kept resisting his grip he suddenly felt it loosen up and his feet could finally touch the ground. He jumped away, coughing and massaging his sore throat which will probably have red marks now. He looked up suspiciously but the chief only sighted heavily.

"Fine.", he grunted unhappily "I guess you've earned it. Stealing royal mail isn't a small feat after all."

Nazir nodded. He slowly hid his blade back in the sheath, eyeing the tall brute but it seems the scuffle was over. Although the chief was prone to sudden bursts of anger he was also a smart and opportunistic man and keeping Nazir alive probably sounded more profitable, than killing him.

Lucky him.

 

However, just as the elf was about to touch the door, the raspy voice called out to him once again.

"I'm giving you an extra errand in a few days. Sleep and eat, see the little rabbit and make sure you're ready. It's going to be dangerous."

The elf smiled grimly.

"When is it not?"

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

 

In a dark room illuminated by a single candlelight stood a simple bed with white sheet and a fluffy pillow. It wasn't heavily decorated, quite the opposite instead. There was only one small cabinet, a dirty rug, a chair and a small table in the left corner. No windows or pictures hanging from the walls, no tapestry or even tiny ornaments. Everything was kept simple. All except the intricate lock on the door.

Nazir walked up quickly, kneeled and pressed the key inside the keyhole, swiftly unlocking the door. He pulled the handle and looked inside.

Despite the night-time, the light of the candle and the moon were strong enough to reveal the sight before him.

On the bed laid a tiny red haired child, clutching a bear-like doll in one hand and sucking on a thumb in the other. She had pointy ears.

Nazir slowly walked up to her bed and kneeled. The sight of her peaceful sleeping form made his heart skip with joy and huge relief. For the first time he truly smiled.

"Anethara, Ma'iovru. Ma'arlath emm'ashalin.", he whispered fondly.

Very gently, trying his best not to wake the sleeping child, he grabbed the sheets and tucked her properly. She snored quietly and wiggled her tiny nose in response. Perhaps a silly dream.

That night Nazir slept well, even though he had only his travelling gear as a bed. He slept well.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nazir gets a new mission and thinks about further co-operation with the bandits.

Two guards stood on both sides of a wooden and heavily locked door, which lead to the keeps dungeons. One of them, a muscled and armoured man with an axe, heaved a sigh. The other  gave him an irritated look.

"What?", he spat. It didn't help that they've got their guard duty in the middle of a rainstorm. Thus all water pouring from the sky had already made them look like wet pieces of garbage.

At first the man didn't respond but then quickly turned his head to his companion.

"Why are we doing this?"

The question seemed to surprise the guard, who in return gave an "are you an idiot" look.

" 'cause they pay us?"

"No, I mean why do we even need her? Is she for ransom?"

This time it was the other guard who heaved a sigh, rather loudly.

"She's the spy's kid, you idiot."

"That creepy elf?"

"Yup."

That shut the man up for a few minutes but after a while he turned again with new questions.

"I still don't get it."

"Fuck...what now?"

"Why is she in the dungeons and not in one of the nicer rooms upstairs?"

"Holy fuck, you can't be that thick, can ye?!"

The large man huffed irritably and although tempted to start a fight, he shrugged his shoulders and returned to guarding the door. You could almost see him pouting, like a small child that was told to stop asking stupid questions.

"Oi, stop that now. I was just joking, jeez..."

"Forget it, you're the smarter one here not me."

"Listen, we're keeping her here so the sneaky elf will work for us. That's all."

"...oh."

"Boss said if he's really good, the girl might go to the nicer rooms as a reward. For now, we make sure he won't just run away with her and our money. Got it?"

"Yeah...thanks Jim."

"Shut up."

The rest of the guarding duty passed in silence but the atmosphere was less tense than before. The next shift soon came downstairs and the men exchanged their places.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Although Nazir was employed in banditry, he never considered himself as one of them. His "employment" happened by accident, mostly caused by his lack of attention in the wrong place in wrong time as the bandits caught him crossing their territory. Four months passed by during which he showed off his exceptional thieving skills, each errand becoming gradually more difficult, and thus bringing much profit to his employer. "Chief" they called the brute, as no one knew his real name. Not even Nazir. He didn't care about much beyond his daughter's safety and as long as he kept his end of the bargain, everyone was happy.

He was in the middle of humming a soft elvish lullaby while rocking his child when someone knocked on the door, rather loudly. The noise thankfully didn't woke the little girl but Nazir glared at the door nonetheless offended.

"Come in", he said.

The door creaked and inside peeked a ratty-looking man in shabby armour that probably had seen its better days long ago.

"Boss want to see ya.", the man grumbled.

"Tell him I'll be there soon."

"He said its important, rabbit."

Nazir shoot him a warning glare which spelled "murder" and the young man shifted in place visibly uncomfortable.

"As I said, I'll be there shortly", the elf repeated slowly prolonging each word. "I have other priorities at the moment so give me five to ten minutes."

"Um...alright, I'll tell the boss.", and he scurried away, closing the door behind him.

 

Nazir gave his daughter last kiss before putting her to bed.

"Goodnight, Ma'iovru. I'll see you soon."

She wriggled her tiny nose in her sleep.

 

When he appeared once again in the Chief's room, he noticed that there was already a seat prepared for him. The burly man was sitting on the opposite side of the desk, busy writing a letter and organizing important documents. He didn't look up when Nazir cleared his throat nor when he sat on the offered chair. The elf could have imagined it but there was an aura of excitement around the chief, which he noticed in his gestures and the way he almost crumpled the papers when shuffling them. He never saw him like that, to be honest. Angry and murderous, yes. Opportunistic and cold, definitely. Excited? Not even once since their first encounter.

"Good news, I assume?", Nazir prodded. The chief grinned in response.

"Aye, fantastic.", he finished the letter with a flourish and put it away to let the ink dry. Then he turned his attention to the rogue.

"This war is a nasty business, right? No one really benefits here...well, almost no one.", he chuckled at his own joke. "Still, making business while templars an' mages fuck around ain't easy. That's why I'm happy that someone decided to clean it all up, or at least try."

Nazir furrowed his brows. If it were true, then those were indeed excellent news to hear. Travelling through hinterlands without avoiding the war zones would be a blessing.

"Care to elaborate? Who exactly is cleaning up and how?"

"Divine Justinia has announced a Conclave."

The elf stared at him, no, gawked was a more appropriate word here. Although he could usually keep a straight face, his eyes often told more than a thousand words. Like now, for what he heard was certainly surprising news.

"I know, right? Hehehe, and I can see you're getting it too. All important people will be there", the chief emphasised the word 'all'. "And I'm planning to send my best man right into the bottom of that boiling cauldron to gather all the riches for me."

Nazir shifted on his seat. He knew what was coming and who this 'best man' supposedly was and yet, although the idea made him uncomfortable, it also intrigued him. Is that what the mission will entail? Stealing from the Divine herself? The chief saw his hesitation and his smirk vanished, replaced by seriousness..

"Now listen up closely. I thought about giving you this mission later, but now is the best opportunity to get what we want. Here", he pushed forward a piece of parchment. "I've written all the details on paper. Read it in your room, get ready and ride as soon as you can."

The elf however, didn't move from his seat and neither did he touch the paper. His gaze fell on the object and then back at the chief. Suspicious as always.

"What do I get in return?"

The man huffed, shrugging his shoulders and opened his hands giving him the look which said 'nothing more than usual'.

"You expecting flowers for the girl? Perhaps a tiny crown and a gown to that? You're getting your pay and she just got her nicer room. Don't get too greedy, boy or one day you'll bite off more than you can chew."

If he expected the words to have an effect on the elf, he was wrong. The rogue's demeanour remained unchanged and the glaring intensified.

"I expect to see her safe when I return.", he gritted through his teeth in a warning tone. The chief did not take lightly to being threatened and perhaps Nazir shouldn't push his luck so much, but even the slightest hint of danger anywhere near his daughter infuriated him. So much that his common sense liked to fly out the window.

"And you will", the man retorted. "Once you bring the things on the list which I have just given to you."

"And if I don't? Let's say I failed the mission, what will you do with my daughter?"

Surprisingly, at those words the burly man frowned as if mighty offended at the implications.

"I don't kill children.", he said in a serious tone.

"I never..."

"I don't sell them either. Now get your shit together and get out of my face, if that's all.", which was all Nazir had gotten before the man turned around and continued to read more documents from the left pile on his desk. Such gesture indicated a clear dismissal. End of the discussion.

 

The elf pondered on the chiefs peculiar response to his threats. Just a few days ago he refused to let him see his daughter and now he assured him of his own good heart? Nazir didn't believe it one bit. That man only saw him as a gold mine, seeking every opportunity to get his organisation richer, bigger and more dangerous. Nazir saw their work in the crossroads a few times. They attacked defenceless people, stole their belongings and then left the corpses to rot in the sun. Once they had a "fun party" with a few women they found hiding in a cave, some of which were elven. How did he know? He was part of the group that found the frightened women. Later that day, he returned, covered in blood and filth from head to toe and reported the whole group missing. Apparently they had an accidental meeting with rogue templars and mages. It was a cheap lie and the chief certainly knew it, but surprisingly didn't demand any clarification.

Nazir swore under his nose as he walked past a pair of guards and entered his daughters room on the upper floor, near the second main tower. This business with bandits was getting more dangerous as days passed. The chief kept pushing his thieving abilities to new limits and although Nazir prided himself with exceptional skills, there would come a day when his luck would run out. A moon coming out to destroy his shadow, a lock-pick breaking when it shouldn't or a door creaking too loudly. Anything could happen.

If Nazir lived alone, he wouldn't be concerned about such trivialities as getting caught. However, he had other responsibilities to consider. If anything ever happened to him, his daughter would be left alone at the mercy of the bandit king.

He made the decision long ago. It was time to move on. After the conclave mission, he would return and then sneak out with the little girl at night. It doesn't matter where, any place far from the bandits would be sufficient.

Nazir sat softly on the chair. She was asleep and he always made sure he behaved quietly. She had enough fun with the elven nursemaid during the day, probably running in the nearby glade among butterflies.

He decided it would be a good time to open the envelope concerning the Conclave mission. Heaving a sigh, he read:

 

_Boy,_

_Here is the list of things I want you to steal:_

_-any important documents with a seal or not from Divine Justinia's cabinet._

_\- Divine Justinia's signet ring_

_There is one more thing you should do however. I want you to gather any information you can get about the Grey Wardens. Their current whereabouts, what're they doing, how, who and why. Everything you'll find will be highly valuable._

_I understand that getting through the Divine's guards will require more skill and luck than usual so I'm giving you a bigger time limit - six weeks. Remember to report every week on your progress, there should be our crow in Haven. Use it._

_DO NOT GET CAUGHT!_

_Failure means no payment._

_So, luck in the shadows._

_C._

_PS If you "accidentally" steal something valuable, it's yours._

 

Nazir frowned slightly. Grey Wardens did not involve themselves in politics as far as he remembered. Why would he look for them on a Mage/Templar peace-meeting? That piece of information made no sense now, but perhaps later it would. Nevertheless, this mission was highly suspicious. Stealing the Divine's signet ring and documents he could understand, but why seek the information about people who definitely wouldn't attend? Where was the profit in that?

Nazir folded the note and tucked it inside his pocket, then he stood up and began to change his clothes for the evening. He will ride early in the morning after preparing all his thieving and travelling equipment and after spending some time with his daughter, before the nanny's arrival. Six weeks...

He shook his head and pushed the thoughts away. He worried all the time. Each time he left, he was afraid that when he came back, his little girl won't recognize him anymore. Her safety and happiness however, was of paramount importance to him. Nothing else mattered...

 

The morning came. A guard informed him that the horse was prepared and ready.

Nazir kissed the giggling child while she played with his long black locks of hair. He tickled her and cherished the sounds she made. She pointed at his face with bewilderment and curiosity.

"Owee?", she asked.

The elf took her hand away from the scar which covered his left eye and cheek.

"A little bit. But it doesn't hurt anymore, Ma'iovru.", he smiled at her lovingly.

"Kissy owee!", and she smacked her lips againts his eye, or tried to. He laughed at her antics.

"Thank you. I feel so much better."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thief goes to haven. No, not that kind of heaven :D

Nazir 's journey toward Haven carried him through the Hinterlands Finest: crazy apostates, mad templars and let's not forget - thugs and grave-robbers who seek golden opportunity which the war brings. Although it seemed that the news of a conclave travelled fast, since the first two fractions have apparently minimized their skirmishes as much as it was possible. He rode on a chestnut horse, its dark mane billowing on the wind as they galloped between the thick tree lines, its hooves smoothly avoiding any obstacles like rocks and gnarled roots. It was a fine steed borrowed temporarily from the Chief himself, who probably just now realized that his stables lack one horse. Nazir smirked under his nose at the image which appeared inside his head:  a huge burly man, shouting to heavens and throwing spit while cursing the elf's name. Said elf petted his new steed. It huffed, content at the moment. What should he name it?

Two days later they stopped to rest near a destroyed farm building, its roof caved inside and door cleaved off its hinges, laying in the wet grass among the piles of snow. The closer Nazir rode towards Haven the less fighting he saw and more refugees travelled on the usually empty roads. This place was deserted, thankfully. He didn't want to chat with anyone at the moment. There was much preperation to be done first.

Nazir tied the horse to a broken window frame and let it eat some grass. He searched for water and since there was none to be found, he put some snow in a bucket and let it melt near the campfire. Then he checked the rest of the house and rubble but it seemed the looters have been here already. As he was about to go outside, he noticed a strange but familiar shape sticking out of one broken cupboard. He came closer to inspect it and to his surprise found a nicely carved flute, made out of oak and birch wood. It was short, but smooth in touch and had tiny ornaments around the edges. To an unskilled eye it would seem a trifle trinket worth less than a copper, but Nazir recognized the object as elven. What was it doing in a farm house? Perhaps the owner of this land used to have dealings with an elven clan long ago, a favour for a favour. A mystery for the ages.

The rogue sat near his horse and decided to try out the new instrument. It was relatively clean if a bit worn out by time. He blew gently and a soft melody, softer that one would expect, echoed on the evening wind. He tried to play a lullaby he sang as to his daughter, and after a few tries he managed a semi-fine tune. Nazir never played a flute before, but his sister did. Long time ago.

Suddenly he heard a stomping sound behind him and when he checked around to see what it was, he saw his horse swinging its mane left and right while trotting in place. It almost resembled a dance, though a very awkward one.

"You like music?", Nazir snorted at his companions silly antics. He played another tune to make sure and the horse reacted happily as if the melody awakened some joyful spirit inside it. "I think I have a name for you. I'll call you Nehna." The animal huffed and stomped one hove on the ground, then continued to chew some grass. Nazir smirked with amusement. It was a very weird discovery, but funny.

When the night fell, the rogue have had already prepared a bedroll near the fireplace and watered his steed. It was quiet around, not a bird singing nor cricket chirping. He watched the blood-red sunset slowly hiding behind the black horizon, like a golden coin being gently shoved into a dark purse. The burnt crops shone in the last rays of sun until darkness enveloped the whole world. Nazir chose that moment to check if his disguise was ready for the next day and then, after laying a few traps in the vicinity, he slept. The real work begun tomorrow.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Haven wasn't a huge city nor even a large village or banorn. Therefore, it barely held all  the people who came to see the conclave with various purposes. There was an obvious divide between the mage camp and templar territory, each party watching each other with utmost suspicion. There were guards maintaining order, dignitaries, some representatives of noble houses and even mercenaries and carta, if you looked closer. The conclave called them all, but for what result? None could tell.

There were also people who had no connection with the upper class or any of the fractions. Common people fleeing the hell of war. Families with children, merchants, travellers and even a few minstrels who hoped to write history through songs. All races were present, though humans were the majority.

The tavern was filled to the brim with travellers. The barmaid barely kept up with receiving orders as she balanced few mugs of beer on her tray. Men were loud and robust, women giggled cheerfully near the fireplace with their children and a few groups of Wicked Grace players squatted in the corner with their cards.

One elf was currently winning his second round while smoking a long pipe and quietly judging all players from under the hood.

"Sod it, you ploughing knife-ear! You're cheating!", a rather well muscled man grumbled angrily. He could barely hold his cards in hand and the barmaids have already decided to ignore his constant calls for another round.

" I'm not.", he retorted calmly. He tossed another coin to the coup and chose to ignore the drunkard.

"You must be! There is no way a stupid knife-ear like you would know how to play fair!"

Another man with a large scar on his face heaved a sigh and put his hand on the drunks arm. "Stop it, Ned. You're whining worse than your sister, and she's pregnant.". His hand was shaken off like a nasty fly. A few people turned their heads with anticipation, expecting a brawl to start soon. A rather frail-looking elven servant who shyly joined their game placed his cards on the table and lost another silver, which the rogue put into a leather satchel with the rest of the money. Ned, who already lost quite a sum, suddenly stood up and banged his fists on the table so hard, the tankards shook almost spilling the beer.

"Give me my money back, you filthy scum!", he shouted.

 "You lost. Deal with it, shem.", the elf replied firmly as if explaining to a small child why they can't have another cake. The mercenary's brother tried to calm the man, pull him down back on the chair but it only enraged him more.

"You cheated!", he spat in fury.

"Did I? Have you any proof?", he retorted and when his question was met with silence he showed a row of white teeth in a nasty grin. "Just as I thought".

 As the elf stood up to leave, the burly man suddenly flung up the table in a rage like a roaring beast and then charged, trying to pin him to the wall. The elf was much quicker however, and dodged the attack with childish ease. He tripped him over a leg and the man fell face down on the ground with a loud "oof!"  The whole tavern erupted with laughter. The drunken mercenary tossed and turned on his fat belly and finally stood up on his shaky legs, ready to swing fists but realised that his opponent has vanished from sight. Humiliated and furious, he screamed profanities and hideous  things he would do to the elf if he ever found him again. Suddenly, something pulled his collar, tripped his leg again and sent him flying backwards on the floor once more. The crowd which has steadily gathered around them, started shouting in excitement. "Break his nose!" or "Plough the elf", they cheered and some even chanted "Fight! Fight! Fight" as the opponents stood facing each other. The mercenary, now standing much firmer on his muscled legs focused on his target and swung his fist. He missed. Punch! Slap! The elf kicked him on the stomach and then punched him with joined fists down on the head. The man fell on the floor, moaning in pain but quickly recovered and stood up once more. He charged at the elf with a mighty roar. The adrenaline which pumped in his veins enabled him to concentrate better and he remembered his opponents evasion manoeuvres.  As the elf was about to dodge, he grabbed him by the clothes and pulled him down on the ground. The crowd roared and cheered for the fighting pair.

"What is the meaning of this?!", someone shouted at the tavern's door. Everyone looked around and in a matter of seconds, silence filled the whole establishment.

Cassandra Pentaghast marched inside and looked upon the brawling duo, which currently stood at a standstill. The elf quickly noticed her entrance and tried to stand up but the man's vice grip held him firmly on the ground.

"Do you really have nothing better to do, than cause unnecessary trouble and ruckus? Do I need to call your mothers to pull your ears?", she said sharply. Her brow was furrowed and lips curved in an overall look of disgust and annoyance like an adult who dealt with noisy children. She gave a reprimanding glare to a pair of drunken guards who stood among the cheering crowd, but now shrunk a little before her in fear.

The drunken mercenary, who has finally recognised her presence stood up shakily and pointed his finger at the elf in accusation. "He stole my money, seeker! I was just trying to get it back!", he said. His brother slapped his own face with a palm of his hand. Seeker Cassandra groaned and rolled her eyes.

"I have no time for your petty squabbles." She retorted and then pointedly gave a nod at the elf, "give him a few coins back at least. Maybe it will shut him up."

The elven rogue nodded, finding the solution reasonable and reached for his money pouch that usually hanged at his belt. He clapped and patted his robes in search, with greater vigour each time all over, as if the pouch could have suddenly change places, but he couldn't find it. "M-my coins...they're gone! They were right there, I swear!". The crowd whispered excitedly among themselves, a new gossip spreading around. Someone stole the winning gold!

Cassandra would have groaned, but she had clearly had enough of their shit and pointed at the pair of guards to clean up the "mess". Then, just as she entered, she marched out of the tavern and slammed the door shut.

The guards, slightly embarrassed from the previous reprimanding look, tried to bring order and shouted out loud, "Silence! Everyone return to your own business, we'll take it from here!". The people whined and objected loudly but soon, rather reluctantly and slowly, dispersed. Now that the tension was somewhat broken, the pair of brawlers were approached by the soldiers and the questioning begun. What where they doing? Who had played the wicked Grace with? When was the last time they saw the money pouch and so on.

"Wait a moment!", the rogue suddenly flicked his fingers. "Where is that other elf, the servant with black hair? He played with us as well!"

"I haven't seen him since... wait...you don't think?", the mercenary blinked a few times in disbelief.

"It must be him! That sneaky bastard!".

"Where is he?! I'll break his neck!"

 

Said bastard was moving along briskly between the tents, his own pouch heavier than it was in the morning. He returned to his bedroll, which he put in a cleverly hidden nook at the back of the chantry, high up near the rafters. All his belongings were rolled up there in a tight bun and climbing up was a piece of cake. The elf shoved the coin into a hidden pocket underneath the seam of the bag, which also contained his dark cloak and silver daggers.

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Nazir sat in the corner of the tavern in a cloak. He listened closely. A blonde barmaid walked by and he asked her for a mug of beer. She smiled at his clever compliments, cheeks red, she rushed to the counter to complete the order. Nazir smiled at her bouncy hips leaving his sight and then continued listening to various sounds in the tavern.

"...telling you, Dan. These sodding nug humpers didn't even bother to..."

He took a small sip from the tankard and licked his lips in delight. The sweet barmaid added honey to his beer. He should thank her later.

"...you could do. We had to run and he fell behind..."

"I know! I...know. It's just hard and..."

Nazir didn't like fereldan beer much, but the honey made the taste bearable. If only he knew how to brew the fruit cider, like some elven clans could do. He would probably get drunk after a few sips, however. A bad time to feel tipsy, especially in his line of work.

"...was certainly weird. What the hell is a grey warden doing at the conclave?"

"I don't know. Maybe they're looking for conscripts?"

This was the moment Nazir's ear twitched and he instinctively turned his head towards the sound. Two mages sat in the corner with small pints of ale, one of them younger than the other.

"Conscripts? But there is no blight!"

"After the last blight their numbers were decimated, lad. Wouldn't be surprised if they wanted to re-fill their ranks with fresh blood."

The older mage scratched his brown beard in thought and heaved a sigh.

"But I agree, it is rather weird that they would involve themselves in politics. From what I know, the Grey wardens always kept to a certain pattern: conscript, fight the blight, go home after the jobs done. That they would appear now, of all times..."

Nazir had to lean slightly towards their conversation because the older mage suddenly whispered into the boy's ear.

"...get what we saw....nothing. You saw nothing...information.....kill us....". They boy nodded following every word his mentor said. The elven rogue found it easy to fill in the blanks in the dialogue and smirked under his hood. He had finally found some clue.

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Snow has become unbearable in the following days as it fell for hours and hours, flooding the paths and covering any tracks Nazir could find. It was a frustrating drawback but at the same time a blessing. If he couldn't track the wardens who walked in heavy armour, no one could track him either.

He was gradually coming closer to the Temple of the Sacred Ashes. Its magnificent spires peaked over the hill and as he turned to the left, he saw it and stared in great awe. The Temple towered over the gigantic, busy crowd of templars, mages and other noble dignitaries who came for the conclave.

Nazir stood silent for a few minutes, admiring the beautiful architecture. He wished for a moment that his daughter could see this too. "And she will", he thought "after the job, I'll take her here. She has never seen snow before."

He followed the main path until the edge of the large camp and then carefully mingled with the throng of people. He wore a simple dark robe and some leather armour of a hunter, though in some circumstance it could be used as a light outfit for a thief. The added furs warmed his neck and arms. It was so cold he even wore shoes, which he found in the decrepit farmhouse, and the unfamiliar feeling made him uncomfortable for a while.

Later in the evening he found another perfect nook in the temple, though this time he had to increase caution. The guards stood at each entrance and the secret agents, which no one except for him recognised, had their keen eyes in every corner. He was sure they saw him and wondered what purpose brings a Dalish elf to the conclave. Although he wasn't Dalish for a long time, he still remembered what the Vallaslin looked like and he painted one on his face with a strong ink. It will stick for at least another two weeks. Enough time to sneak in and get the job done.

That night, Nazir carefully entered the Temple through a small window which stood quite high. He climbed the wall which had a few rocks sticking outside and then slithered inside a room. He looked inside. It contained a few cupboards and sacks of grains and nuts. A storage room then.

He carefully opened the door, which was unlocked and peaked into the corridor. Two guards stood outside a large door at the end of the hallway, but far enough to not see him in the dim light. They were too busy having a small conversation. Very slowly, he unhooked the rope and with great agility, he swung it up until it caught a wooden rafter. He climbed and then spun the rope back on his arm. The guards saw nothing. Piece of cake.

Moving on the rafters like a cat he managed to sneak into most rooms although the one that he searched for wasn't available through that path. The Divine's bedroom and secretary.

To his surprise however, her private rooms were unguarded and even the corridor seemed to be empty. Carefully, Nazir hung his head down to have a look and he saw nor heard no one. The place was quiet. Suspicious.

Making absolutely sure that no one was coming, he climbed down on the rope and sneaked up to the entrance. It had a finely shaped lock on an ornamented door. He pulled out a pair of lockpicks, inspected the lock and started to work on it. After a while something clicked and he pushed the door handle. In the back of his mind and alarming voice kept whispering, that this was way too easy. Where are the guards? Why are the corridors empty, not even servants scattering about?

He quickly searched the room for important documents. The cabinet had to be lockpicked too and inside he found some interesting papers with seals and adresses from different nobles and chantry sisters. There was even a letter from King Alistair. All of it landed in a neat pile in Nazir's backpack. The only thing left was the signet ring. The precious jewel however, couldn't be found in the room.

Nazir kept listening to any noise outside the room and kept his attention to the timing. Each second mattered.

Suddenly he heard a loud scream and cries for help. He flinched and grimaced. If that person kept shouting, it will certainly bring the guards in a matter of minutes. He had to hurry.

...

......

.......It was the last thing he remembered, before the world exploded in dark green colour and smoke.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nazir tries to close the breach. Same old, same old...although it is diffictul to imagine character dialogue outisde the game lore. All comments are welcome, hate too, but please refrain from vulgarity.

 Five guardsmen had their swords drawn as they surrounded an elven prisoner dressed in dark dirty leathers and buckles. Soon, they saw him fidget and then gasp as another bout of green light crackled from the scar on his hand. A look of surprise crossed his face, then of shock and wonder when two more lightning cracks erupted from the source. The guards stood still, unmoving, vigilant while the atmosphere in the gloomy darkness remained as tense as a string in a Dalish bow.

Suddenly, Seeker Pentaghast entered the dungeons, or rather marched inside along with Lady Nightingale, her expression hidden under the purple hood. Like opposite sides of a coin, one of the ladies watched the prisoner and the other started questioned him in a threatening manner. 

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now?", the seeker seethed in her justified fury and anger. The elf clenched his scarred hand into a fist, though it certainly hurt to do so, and sent the Seeker a look filled to brim with poison. He remained silent however, unwilling to spill a sound.

The Lady Seeker circled him like a hawke around its prey, their gazes locked with each other in a silent battle of will. She held the power in her symbol, but the elf had the endurance and stubbornness of his ancestors. The questioning continued.

"The Conclave is destroyed, everyone who attended is dead. Except for you.", she accused him in a strong voice. Someone observant might notice that it trembled momentarily in deep pain, still fresh from earlier events. 

The elf remained silent but attentively listened to every word she said. He seemed unfazed by the accusation and his dark eyes glinted dangerously in the dim light of the dungeons. She continued, by violently grabbing his right hand.

"Explain this!", she said. He grimaced in pain but still no words came out of his mouth. Instead he looked away as if gesturing his unwillingness to continue the conversation and disregard for her status. Leliana frowned at his behaviour.

"Can't you speak? Or maybe you don't want to?", she asked in a gentle voice which held a hint of danger. Like a beautiful poison ivy. Nevertheless, the prisoner refused to speak a word and only his face showed how and what he felt at the moment. Right now he looked at both women stricken with pain from the magic scar and furrowed his brow as if contemplating his options. There were very few.

Cassandra let her rage erupt and backhanded the prisoner with a loud slap. His face turned sharply but the spirit in his gaze remained unbroken, rebellious."You will tell us what you know, you filthy piece of...!", she shouted but Leliana immediately jumped in. "Wait!", she said. "We need him!"

At this statement they could see a slight shift in the elf's gaze. He switched his attention quickly from one woman to another, questioning their motives. Cassandra calmed down when she felt a hand of her friend on her shoulder. She inhaled deeply and then exhaled slowly, losing the grip on the prisoner.

"Go to the forward camp Leliana, I'll take him to the rift.", she said, a certain finality in her tone. 

"Are you sure?", asked Leliana.

"Yes. We cannot wait. Something has to be done, now." She gave her friend a reassuring smile, though it looked half as convincing as it probably should. Nevertheless, Lady Nightingale nodded solemnly and walked out of the dungeons. Cassandra turned her attention then to the prisoner, who watched their exchange with a mild confusion.

"It would have been better if you told us anything, but we have no time for a proper interrogation. You'll see why soon enough." She said tiredly and unlocked the chains which held him tight to the floor. He was able to stand up but on shaking legs and with a weak posture. The seeker made sure he remained standing as she practically dragged him upstairs towards the chantry's exit. The air grew even colder there and filled with an unrecognisable burning scent, almost acidic and incredibly annoying to their nostrils.

When they stepped outside the building, Cassandra watched the elf's reaction on the first sight of the breach. He stumbled, gaze upwards, eyes widened in shock and genuine terror. It was at least some proof that he did not expect such outcome, but he still remained their only suspect. For now. 

The elf gasped as his hand burst with another ray of green sparks and light at the same time as the breach expanded just a little more. He kneeled and whined in pain and the Seeker felt almost sorry for him. Almost. She kneeled in front of him and explained the situation as quickly as possible. The Breach was caused by a magical explosion which killed everyone and now demons are appearing everywhere, flooding the lands with their presence. The breach is also somehow connected to his hand, and with each burst of light, they both grow stronger. If something won't be done immediately, he will die. Everyone will die.

"Will you help us?" she asked, though it almost sounded like a rhetorical question. Only death awaited if he refused, so one choice remained what ether his opinion might be. The elf looked at her, then at his hand and quickly calculated the whole situation. He nodded.

Cassandra pulled him up and with less force than before guided him through Haven, marching between the refugee camps. People were stranded everywhere, bandaged, injured, grieving and crying, some even praying loudly. Some of them noticed the Seeker and the prisoner and they started booing and shouting. A man spat on his face with surprising precision. If they could, some would probably jump up to lynch the elf right there and then, but the Seekers intimidating presence and respect for her status prevented that from happening. She noticed his gaze.

"They have decided your guilt. They need it”, she said as they walked. “The people of Haven mourn our most holy, head of the Chantry Divine Justinia. The Conclave was hers. It was a chance for peace between Mages and Templars. She brought their leaders together. Now they are dead.”

They walked forwards where more soldiers and scouts gathered around a gate and beyond. The guards opened the gate for them and the seeker marched through with the prisoner in hand.

“We lash out like the sky, but we must think beyond ourselves. As she did. until the breach is sealed.”

As they crossed the border of the village, she turned around and gave him a weird look as if contemplating a decision. Her gaze landed on his bindings, his hands and the scar, then his cold eyes still dangerous looking but less hostile than before. She saw fear and terror which became almost a constant in the last few days in everyone's eyes.

The elf fidgeted under her gaze until he saw her pull out a knife. He stood still but one could tell by his posture that he was ready to run if things turned messy. To his great surprise however, Lady Seeker grabbed his bonds and then swiftly cut them. He needed a moment before finally massaging his hurting wrists.

" There will be a trial later, once the situation is under control. I can promise no more.", she said. “Come, it is not far.”

The elf looked at her as if she had just sprouted a second head on her neck. 

Then he ran.

Before the Seeker could react in any way, she saw the prisoner jump forward, knock her down and then sprint towards the main road.

"Guards! Catch him!"

Two soldiers standing at the exit from the bridge reacted immediately and crossed their weapons in front of the gate, but their attempt was futile. The elf landed a solid kick to one of their kneecaps and then, like walking on some moving stairs, he jumped on the second guard and grabbed the nearest carving on the gate. He climbed with an agility of a monkey and just as quickly vanished from their sight.

To say that the Seeker was furious would be an understatement. She called for the gates to open, and charged forward after the prisoner, who already managed to run quite far.

"Stop! Coward!", she shouted at him.

The chase continued for a few minutes as the elf manoeuvred between the blazing fire of broken crates and other objects and the Seeker kept closing the distance between them. Soon enough, she almost caught up with him as they both ran on a bridge full of soldiers and carriages. The way was blocked. He stopped and turned around to face Cassandra, who at the moment resembled a miniature dragon with puffed up scales.

"You have nowhere to run, coward!", she growled. 

The elf looked around, hands at the ready and made a nasty grimace. The only way he could escape was to jump into a frozen lake, which probably was as thick as the seeker's skull. It would have been suicide to do that. So he stood in place, angry and desperate.

All of a sudden, a bright blinding light came hurling towards their bridge. The elf reacted instinctively and jumped forward, knocking the seeker down by grabbing her waist. The bridge exploded into tiny bits and rubble and both of them tumbled down like rocks, landing on the frozen river. The elf felt his back and ribs hurt with each movement, hopefully not broken, and he looked at where the bridge stood just a few seconds ago. It was all gone and between a few rocks here and there he could see soldiers squashed in a gruesome fashion amongst pieces of crates and carriages. Blood spilled everywhere.

 The seeker stood up, surprisingly steady but before any of them could say anything, the green light which had just destroyed their bridge started acting strange. The floor warped and bubbled like molten lava and an ugly demon erupted from within. It roared and then charged at the seeker with anger and animalistic desire to kill. The elf stood behind while the woman thought with her sword and shield. Unfortunately, a second demon appeared right in front of him and before he could react, it slashed his arm with its claws.

"Aaargh!", he shouted in pain. He clutched his arm to his chest and backed away quickly. He found a crate full of spilled weapons nearby, mostly two handed axes and one sword. He grabbed the latter and swung it as hard as he could at the enemy, which was rather difficult as it weighted more that a pair of daggers.

Swallowing the pain, he fought the demon with a sword, clashing with the claws and avoiding more attacks. He stepped back until he met the edge of the rubble. The demon charged and in that moment the elf ducked under its dark arms and with all the force he got, pushed the sword forward sticking it into its back. The foul creature screamed in agony and then dissolved into a slimy dark-green mist. The elf looked around and saw Cassandra finishing her own fight with a finesse of a master-warrior. She hit the demon with her shield and while it was stunned, she cut its head off with one clean swing. The battle was over.

The elf grimaced and dropped his weapon. He looked at his arm which began to bleed more and more as he tried to stop it. There were no bandages lying around nor any bits of cloth to at least stop the bleeding.

A pair of boots stopped in front of him and he looked up. Cassandra was holding out her hand with a potion bottle.

"Drink it. It's a healing potion.", she said. after a moment of hesitation she added “thank you for saving me.”

The elf looked as dumbfounded as before when she released him from his bindings. He couldn't understand her motives and actions which to him were absolutely bizarre and unheard of. She saw his hesitation and kneeled down to match his eye.

"I'm not going to kill you, unless you give me a reason to do so", she explained "Your hand may be the only clue to closing the rift and our time is running out. So please, cooperate with me, at least until everyone is relatively safe."

She dangled the healing potion right before his nose. "Take it and find some weapons. There are more demons ahead and I can't protect you all the time".

He nodded and plucked it from her hand, uncorked the bottle with his teeth and then drank everything with a few gurgles. Then he threw the bottle behind where it crashed into tiny glass pieces. He saw her frown at that display and smirked at her reaction. His wounds healed, but sadly not enough to prevents scarring.

After finding a pair of well-made daggers in one of the fallen crates, the elf gave a tiny bow to the Seeker. A silent agreement and pact of truce. She understood and they both ventured forward, one following the other. Cassandra wondered what was happening inside the elf's head at the moment, what his motives are and his goals. Then she stopped and focused at the problem at hand. There will still be time for contemplation.

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Cassandra plunged through the sea of demons like a mad dragon and she slashed them all with a masterful precision. At the same time she managed to observe her temporary companion during the battle. He was quick on his feet, agile and extremely fast when dodging, stabbing and retreating. His blades danced, swirled, like leaves on the wind and sometimes she could see his teeth emerge in a snarl or a growl when he hit the target. She wondered if he learned to fight so viciously on the streets or perhaps by joining a mercenary group. He could also be a Dalish which was doubtful, as there were no markings on his face. 

As they marched on, she heard another cry of battle little bit further from where they stood. Good, perhaps they could help some soldiers and move to the forward camp with them. 

When they reached the top of the stairway however, she saw familiar faces and her heart warmed slightly. Solas and Varric. She thanked the Maker that the mage was alive and groaned when the Dwarf made a pretty cool shot while giving her a wink. May he choke on something, that little bastard.

The elven rogue joined the battle and quite soon the demons were defeated. That was when all of a sudden Solas grabbed his hand and shouted "Quick, before more come through!" while pointing his hand towards the rift.

Light sizzled like burning wood, something cracked and suddenly a bolt of green light connected with the small rift. The elf groaned in pain, trying to release his hand but it was held in a surprisingly strong grip for a mage. Judging by his grimace it must have hurt a lot, but just as it started, the rift vanished with a loud crack and left behind a gentle green mist.

The elf snarled in anger and would have thrown a punch if not for Cassandra's quick reflexes. She held him back away from the mage just in time.

" _ Nuva mar’edhis banafelas i miol’en av ra!",  _ he growled at Solas who's eyes widened in shock upon hearing elven language. 

"I'd take a guess he didn't like it", a throaty voice called behind them and Varic walked towards their group hiding his beloved crossbow on his back. His eyes wandered immediately all over the newcomer, trying to read him like a book freshly bought from a book store.

"That's our elven prisoner, eh? You're taller than I thought."

If he expected a jovial answer he didn't get it. Instead the elven rogue barely gave him a glance, and spoke only one word, "Felasil". Solas frowned at that, which on his face looked like he was about to give a small child a lecture about bad and good behaviour. He turned to the Seeker instead.

" Whatever magic created the breach on the sky also placed that mark on his hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the breaches wake...and it seems I was correct".

Cassandra's eyes grew with new hope.

"Meaning it could also close the breach itself!"

"That is quite possible", then he looked at the elf "It seems you hold the key to our salvation".

"Good to know! Here I thought we'd be ass deep in demons forever.", Varric joked. He adjusted slightly the crossbow on his back and then grinned. "By the way, I believe we should introduce ourselves. Varric Tethras. Rogue, storyteller and occasionally unwelcome tag-along." He winked at Cassandra again, at which she groaned and rolled her eyes.

The elven rogue looked slightly overwhelmed by the proximity and sheer amount of information which bombarded him from all sides. He glanced at the dwarf's offered hand and after a moment of hesitation, shook it. 

"Nazir", he said in a low husky voice. 

Solas approached the pair with his usual politeness.

"My name is Solas if introductions are to be made. I am please that you still live.", he started in a friendly manner but the rogue's response was a look that could freeze lakes in summer.

Varric chuckled at that and shook his head. "What he's trying to say here, is he kept that mark from killing you while you slept." Hearing that, the elf's ears twitched a bit and he gave the mage a less hostile look, though still mistrustful and wary. He bowed shortly, as he did for Cassandra and then walked a few steps away to clean his weapons on the fresh snow.

Their eyes followed him for a moment before they looked at each other. Solas remained unfazed at the display, and Cassandra looked like she wanted to throttle the elf but refrained form doing so.

"Interesting.", he muttered. "he could be a Dalish elf but then he would have had the markings. He does not. He also speaks very good elven, considering the amount of knowledge left on the ancient Arlathan".

"That’s the first time he spoke actually." said Cassandra, "I did not understand what he said but judging your reaction it must have been really insulting"

"Ah, yes. I haven't heard such vulgar language since my wild days in youth."

Varric chuckled at that. The elven rogue didn't seem the friendliest type but the dwarf has already learned how to interact with broody elves in the past. You could say he had vast experience, thanks to Hawke.

"Aww, I'm sure we'll become great friends in the valley chuckles", he retorted.

"Absolutely not!", Cassandra immediately piped up. She sighted, "Your help is appreciated Varic but..."

"Have you been to the valley lately Seeker?", he interrupter her. "Your soldiers aren't in control anymore, you need me."

As much as Cassandra would like to disagree with the dwarf, he was right. Chaos was spreading too quickly and they needed to stop it.

"Fine." she said through gritted teeth. Then she turned to Nazir. "Are you coming with us? Willingly, I mean?"

Nazir 's lips curved in a nasty grimace as if the mere thought of following her brought him misery. "Yes", he said and twirled his blades reflexively.

"Good. Lets move forward then."

They ventured far into the steep valleys of the frost mountains.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Varric was right about the valley. The demons had made it their tiny playground, full of dead bodies and corpses lying around. They had to fight back to back, with all their might to push past the sea of those monstrous creatures.

In the meantime, Solas tried to start a conversation with the silent elf but he refused to speak in more than a few words. If at all.

"Where do you come from?"

Nazir effortlessly cut the demon in half but offered no response. Varric chuckled at that.

"I bet on three marches. I saw that blade-dance technique in one of the mercenaries roaming those lands"

"More fighting, less talking", the elf growled irritably as he dodged another swipe of demonic claws, bending backwards with a nimble precision and agility.

"I agree", said Cassandra who swung her blade and chopped of the demon's head smoothly.

Suddenly the mark erupted in loud sizzling noise and the rogue fell on his knees again, groaning and clutching his hand. It flashed with light and then, just as abruptly stopped. Thankfully, by that time all enemies were defeated, or they would have easily took him out in this vulnerable position.

The Seeker offered her hand, to help him off the ground. He accepted without hesitation.

"Are you all right?", she asked. There was a small hint of sympathy in her voice, so small it could have been misheard. Nazir heard it though, and his ears twitched with curiosity.

"This mark...is it killing me?", he rasped.

"I...think so. Which is why we should hurry!", she added harshly. As if feeling sympathy for the prisoner was some horrible crime for which one should be ashamed.

The elf's face showed great worry, which anyone would have if they heard such news confirmed. Varric saw him put a hand on his chest in a two fingered gesture and noticed his lips were moving in a quick silent prayer. Then the elf stood up and they continued their journey through the sea of demons. The dwarf saw Sola's quickly turning the gaze away, and wondered if he just witnessed some wired elf ritual or something. He'll put it in his notes for later.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nazir was getting tired very quickly. His muscles ached and he could barely hold a blade in his marked hand. Nevertheless, he had to go on, keep moving until they reached the solution to this demon-centered problem. If there was indeed a chance to close the breach and stop the world from ending, he would do it without a doubt. He would do it for her.

However, with each step they took towards the breach, his worries became stronger and louder inside his head. How will they close the rift? What if it won't work? Even worse, what if the mark will kill him? He couldn't leave his daughter alone, she was too young and there was no one who could take care of her.

As they approached the chantry cleric, he noticed that Solas was giving him curious looks all the time. Nazir responded with a cold glare and the elf turned his gaze elsewhere, without any shame of being caught. Meanwhile, Cassandra was getting in a heated argument with Chancelor Roderic.

"...but a thug who supposedly serves the chantry!", was the sentence Nazir heard when he finally paid attention.

Lovely. Humans fighting for power as the world is ending, how typical of them. Nazir huffed irritably and walked away to look around for useful equipment and supplies. Perhaps he could find a better pair of blades, more suited for his grip. He felt Leliana's keen eyes watching him as he searched the crates, so he refrained from taking more than necessary. Theft would be most unwise.

"How do you...hey, where is he?!", Cassandra called out for him from few metres away.

Nazir turned around. He was holding a pair of sharp antivan blades in one hand and a small red-tinted potion bottle in the other.

"I'm right here, Seeker", he said in a bored tone. He stopped paying attention to their childish squabble after a few moment and thus, raised his brows in question. Leliana helped.

"We were just discussing the best way to approach the breach. I have voted for the mountain paths. There could still be scouts left who need our help"

"And I still think we should go join Cullen and his troops. Its the quickest way.", said Cassandra. "What do you think?"

For a few seconds Nazir stood in place, though neither in shock, nor even in surprise. Their stupidity actually tired him now more than ever and seeing the dwarf’s look he could tell, that he was listening to humans squabble for far longer than he did. He could ask useless question like "why me?" or "are you kidding me?!" but time was of essence. The decision was clear for him.

"Mountains. I'm useless in a battlefield.", he said. Leliana nodded and Cassandra too, though she clearly disliked his choice. 

He was about to walk forward when the breach "vomited" another piece of green light and fire. It caused his own hand to crackle violently and Nazir screamed loudly before falling once more on his knees on the ground. This time it hurt incredibly, powerfully, as if the pain was magnified by the proximity of the main rift in the sky. Cassandra actually looked worried as she quickly approached his writhing form.

"Solas, is this normal?", she exclaimed. Her cool hands touched his forehead and he groaned in blissful relief. The mark felt tremendously weird, like someone trying to pull his veins out with one harsh twist. He groaned in pain.

Solas kneeled beside her and touched the mark with his magic glowing hands.

"I cannot tell whether this amount of pain is his response to alien magic or just a natural sensitivity to magic in general", he said. "I shall try to alleviate his suffering, if only for a while".

He touched the marked hand with the tips of his fingers and began chanting, whispering, magic flowing into the jagged scar. One beat of heart. Second. Third. Fourth...

Nazir felt the pain leaving, slowly but gradually. He could breathe again. He looked up and saw the Seeker's worried gaze. If his mark was the only thing which could possibly seal the breach, he'd be worried too. Interesting how humans could spout anger in one moment and yet later feel sympathy for someone they don't even like, he thought. 

The pain made him realise however, that whatever magic touched him is most definietly strong enough to kill him. If the pain was any indication, he should help seal the rift as fast and as soon as possible. Until the world was relatively safe in a normal kind of way. Until  _ she _ was safe.

"There, I did what I could. How are you feeling?", said Solas as he stopped chanting.

Cassandra helped him up. Nazir saw Varric looking just as worried as everyone else when he approached.

"You all right there, Dancer?", he asked. Nazir furrowed his brows in mild annoyance.

"Dancer?", he scoffed.

The dwarf shrugged his shoulders but kept the mischievous smirk on his face. "Everyone I know eventually gets a nickname, its easier to remember. You handle these blades with a deadliest grace and elegance I ever saw. It looks almost like dancing.", he explained. " Also, broody is already taken by another moody elf."

Nazir begun to understand Cassandra's annoyed grunts anytime the dwarf opened his mouth, but refrained from responding in any way except rolling his eyes. "We should move on"

"Ha, you even sound like him!"

Cassandra gave a disgusted noise. Nazir, for once agreed.

They eventually moved on towards the pass in the mountains, the elf leading the party with a hurried march. The Seeker noticed he clutched his hand tightly around the blade so strongly his knuckles went white. She put her own hand on his arm and squeezed shortly. He nodded and they walked on through the thick snow. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the party begun to approach the end of the tunnel, they saw scattered bodies in the doorway. It was a nasty view. Open flesh wounds, the insides strewn all over the place as if a tornado flew through the halls and blasted the poor scouts apart. Some of them had fear imprinted on their faces for eternity in a last shout of horror.

"Well, we found the scouts.", Varric sighted sullenly. 

Nazir's ears twitched as he heard the sound of fighting further along the road. He walked forward and saw another small rift hanging in the air aloft. The remaining soldiers where barely holding their positions in the fight against the demons.

"Seeker.", he turned to face the woman. 

"What is it?"

"You should go forward as a distraction. I could take care of the rift, while you do that.", he proposed. Cassandra looked him in the eyes suspiciously and after a long moment of hesitation she nodded, giving her consent to the idea. She saw his fighting tactics and had always understood that each person had a role in the battle to fulfil.

"Solas, put barriers on all of us, I'll charge forward and we'll help our soldiers!", she called out and raised her already worn shield in an attacking stance. Solas created strong blue barriers around all party members and they moved quickly to the battle.

The fight didn't last long and the screeching demons were defeated in a manner of few minutes. Varric and Solas kept their distance while throwing arrows and spells at the fiends and Cassandra had took the bulk of the attacks on her shield. Although each member was occupied, Solas managed to observe the elven prisoner who was sneaking between the enemies with graceful precision while also maintaining a constant contact with the rift. It eventually exploded on its closure and when it did, he noticed the elf swaying on his feet, holding up with sheer stubbornness and strong will.

Once the rift disappeared completely, the elf would have fallen again if not for the scout who caught him in his arms.

"Easy there, easy!", she called out as she put him gently on the ground.

Cassandra approached the pair. Her shield was badly scratched and damaged but the rest of her warrior armour seemed to be doing fine.

"You keep helping us, although you wanted to run at the first chance of freedom." she said. "I find that very interesting and very strange, though I'm also grateful that you decided to stay."

Nazir shrugged his shoulders as his breathing returned to normal. He tried to stand up, but the scout kept him in place and gave a small bottle of healing potion. He drank it gratefully and thanked her. Cassandra talked with the rest of the scouts shortly and added, that it was the prisoners idea to walk this path. Nazir shrugged again. He didn't do it for them, but they needn't know that.

The scouts thanked him, with a somewhat disturbing reverence in their voice. No, it was certainly only gratefulness, nothing else.

Solas walked up and kneeled before him.

"Sealed, as before. You are getting quite proficient at this.", he said while tending to his wounds. Nazir could swear he heard a note of impression and pride, but it could have been his imagination.

"Not for long it seems.", he retorted grimly. Varric finished adjusting Bianca on his back when he approached them.

"Lets just hope it also works on the big one", he said. Nazir nodded agreeing, though his chances of survival at this rate seemed to decrease with each rift he closed. He may not survive long enough to close it completely. Stabilize it perhaps.

Once they all suited up and moved on, the party noticed the elf's clear withdrawal and deep thoughtfulness. The closer they came to the main breach in the sky, the more agitated he became until they finally approached the centre of the explosion.

Suddenly he stopped.

Cassandra looked back with a frown.

"what is it?"

She saw the elf squirm in place, twirl his weapons and look there and back again as if hesitating to make a decision. His face showed great worry and fear, which was understandable. Perhaps he changed his mind and was about to run like before and Cassandra almost grabbed his arm to prevent that when he turned to her with sad blue eyes.

"Cassandra, If you want me to help you with the breach we must speak of something first. Its very important."

She blinked. twice. They all stopped and looked at him.

"What could possibly be more important than closing the breach?!", she exclaimed angrily.

He glanced at the red smoking corpses, at the huge rubble and remains of the Temple of the Sacred Ashes, at the destruction and the Seeker saw for the first time something break in his hard demeanour.

"I wish to speak privately. I promise to be short as I know that the time is of essence.", he said a sudden softness in his voice and a plea in his eyes.

Cassandra looked like she swallowed a bunch of sour lemons but noting everything that happened so far, the small possibility of the elf's survival and the honesty that begun to suddenly radiate from him, she couldn't say no. Something in the elf's gestures spoke of the importance of this information he wanted to speak of. She groaned.

"Three minutes, no more.", she retorted and then walked with him a few metres away from their other companions.

Solas didn't move his curious gaze from the rogue elf which Varric had noticed. After all, he was trying to read the mysterious elf too.

"Noticed anything interesting, Chuckles?", he asked.

"I noticed many things about him, Master Tethras. Which do you ask about?"

"How about the fact that he speaks with a hint of tevene in his accent?"

"...I did not notice that.", admitted Solas and he narrowed his eyes at the elf again. "A runaway slave perhaps?"

"That would explain why he's so distrustful and tried to run at the first opportunity. But I wouldn't put my coins on that yet. Lets see if...", he suddenly stopped as he saw Cassandra's expression suddenly change during her conversation with the elf. She looked shocked with her mouth hanging open and also sad. The elf kept talking and gesturing with his hands but she stopped him and then, something even more amazing happened. She hugged him.

"Maker's breath, do you see that?", he gasped. "and I thought the sky being ripped open is the weirdest thing in the world."

"There are certainly stranger things than a Seeker having a heart. I do wonder however, what could have prompted such strong emotions."

Before Varric could throw any theories about that, the couple returned with Cassandra in a very distraught mood. She squeezed Nazir's arm and he nodded, seeming more calm and confident than before. There were still hints of worry and saddness behind the light-blue eyes, but less obvious.

“Lets finish this. Remember your promise Seeker.”

“I won’t forget.”

“Good.”, he retorted and marched forward, blades out, his shabby and partially ripped cloak billowing on the soft wind. He turned around. “You waiting for an invitation?”, he growled.

“Maker’s breath...”, mutter Varric and he moved on as well. Solas refrained from speaking.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Breach was enormous. Incredibly high situated and surrounded by violently glowing red lyrium, which Varric immediately warned not to touch. 

The echo’s of the past have explained quite a lot and proved his innocence. Nazir realised now, though still couldn’t understand how foolish he had been. The projection showed how suddenly, in a middle of someone threatening the divine, an elf fell from the rafters. They all heard his curses and the creature’s command. “Slay the elf!”. 

Solas explained how to properly close the breach. They had to open it first, which would in turn attract attention from the other side. Nazir asked for a stamina potion because he had no idea, how long he could endure the fight. This was it. The end or a new beginning.

Nazir looked at the Seeker one more time with great plea in his eyes. She answered with a confirming nod.

He was always taught to never trust shemlens, to always deceive them, use them for your own gain. 

He didn’t trust this human but he could believe in her sense of honour at least.

They fought hard. Varric was flanked a few times and Solas almost ran out of lyrium potions. Cassandra fought back to back with some of the strongest soldiers. Nazir focused all his will and fight into the beach.

At last, the huge Pride demon was weakened. He held his hand high and immediately felt the pull of the green fade-light.

Such physical pain was indescribable. Someone screamed and screamed until Nazir realised it was him, roaring and thrashing as everyone helped him stand up and held his hand to close the breach.

A loud crash erupted in the sky and Nazir felt his soul leave the land of living. He saw the Seeker shouting orders, Solas kneeling and chanting, Varric holding his head in place on the ground. Suddenly, a vision appeared or a hallucination, he didn’t know but he saw his daughter smiling at him with her missing-tooth grin and orange curls jumping around her head like a sunny halo. He smiled back.

Darkness fell and he knew no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elven translation:  
> Felasil || fool/idiot  
> Nuva mar’edhis banafelas i miol’en av ra. || May your dick rot and the insects eat it.
> 
> credits to Project Elvehnan by FenxShiral


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lost and found.....meaning I have no idea how to write this shit.

Cassandra marched into the chantry with Leliana in tow and moved straight for the main room, which used to be owned by some priest as a library and a meeting chamber. Now it served as a second option only.

 A few sisters whispered here and there among themselves but none dared to openly share their opinion when the heretic woman herself walked strongly among the faithful. Was she a heathen or was she faithful? Everyone always had a thought to add and those where much divided lately. Although the breach had been stabilised and order somewhat established, in Haven at least, people had finally the time and opportunity to complain and find faults in everything they could. Not all of them of course, but enough to push Seeker to her already short limits of patience. It was time to act accordingly and start tidying up the mess left after the explosion. 

„Leliana, did you ask Cullen and Josephine to meet us in the main chamber?”, asked Cassandra as they passed the army of high pillars.

„I did”, she nodded and then added with a jovial smirk, „Unless Josephine had brought her books on the Fereldan culture, she should come on time and...” Leliana paused suddenly as she saw a chantry figure approaching them from afar. It was none other than Chancellor Roderic, whose constant complaints and arguments seemed to always pop out of nowhere in the most inopportune times. Just like now.

„Seeker, I would like to discuss something with you, If you please.” he demanded in a tone which clearly told he wouldn’t be refused today, not without a fight. Cassandra sighed in exasperation and gave him her attention.

„If you wish to discuss anything, come to the main chamber. I was about to call a meeting, Chancellor. You are welcome to join us”, she informed in a cynical tone and without waiting for his response marched on to the said room.  

Inside the chamber you could see bare walls, one slightly cracked window and a few old bookcases standing tall amidst the dust. A huge rectangle table has been dragged inside and was now treated as the centre of all meetings. Few chairs, if any, included.

”What is it you wished to discuss Chancelor?”,  Cassandra got straight to the point.

„We don’t have much time for petty squabbles so it better be important.”

   She noticed that the templars who were stationed inside did not belong to her loyal troops, although that could be easily changed in a matter of seconds. Most of the holy warriors believed in her authority and if they didn’t, her opinions usually convinced the rest to follow. Roderic’s high ego would be his down-fall eventually, if he wasn’t careful.

„I want to know when do you plan on visiting Val Royaux, now that the situation has... considerably calmed down”, he asked rhetorically. „I do not approve of your rebellion against the chantry, although I understand how it may seem like there are no other options in the times of chaos”. Cassandra rolled her eyes and squeezed the bridge of her nose in great annoyance. They had this conversation many times already. Repeatedly. Yet it continued to come back.

„I believe I have told you why we are still here. There is nothing more to add.”

„Isn’t there?”, he retorted, nose pointed upward. „A new Divine must be elected, the order brought to the chaos and the prisoner of course, must be put through a trial and given judgement by a proper authority. On the contrary Seeker, there is much to be done.”

   Cassandra scoffed as she circled the table and stopped to put her hands on it. She sighed heavily. 

„I have released the prisoner. He is free to go if he wishes so, though I hope he will change his mind after our conversation”.

Chancellor’s eyes grew wide, his mouth hanging open and hands clenched into tight fists. He looked as if someone just announced that the maker loved frilly pink dresses and danced with the elves naked in the moonlight.

”Maker’s breath!”, he shouted. „have you gone completely mad?! The Prisoner failed seeker! The breach is still in the sky and for all we know he intended it that way!” 

Leliana watched as Cassandra rolled her eyes, reigning in her anger and frustration.

„I do not believe that”, she retorted.

„That is not for you to decide”, he derided her in return, like a father scolding an unruly child, „Your duty is to serve the chantry!”.   

The Seeker gave Roderick an icy glare, filled with determination and passion for her cause, which couldn’t be matched with the priests hunger for power at this moment. She straightened herself up and started taking small steps towards him as her voice called out, confidently: 

„My duty is to serve the principles on which the chantry was founded, chancellor, as is yours.”

 Leliana smirked when she saw a slight shifting movement in the templars who were stationed here and saw their uncertain glares. They looked upon each other and then nodded gently and the Nightingale knew that they have switched sides due to Cassandra’s short but confident stance on the matter.

Suddenly the doors opened and both ladies turned their heads upwards to see who’s coming. To Leliana’s surprise it was one of the scouts, whom she ordered to watch over their saviour. He seemed agitated, though to an unskilled eye nothing would be seen out of ordinary. He sought her gaze and she nodded, allowing him to speak.

„Lady Cassandra, Lady Nightingale”, he started, then stopped shortly to look at both women, completely ignoring the Chancellor, who looked perturbed at such blatant disregard for his status. ”I bring unpleasant news”

„Out with it”, Cassandra barked out, her patience thinned already. The scout nodded again, shifting his stance a little. Leliena narrowed her eyes at his behaviour. What could have possibly happened? Was someone attacked or captured? Did someone die?˙ 

„The prisoner... I mean the elf, he... he’s gone.”

„What do you mean he’s gone? He left? What about the guards stationed at his hut, didn’t they see anything?”, she questioned. He shook his head and begun reporting his observations. No one saw the elf leaving, although his clothes were gone, and no weapons went missing in the smiths or the armoury. They are still looking into that. However, they did found a secret nook at the back of the chantry where a few empty bags were left along with a pair of shoes and an old servants attire. Somehow, the elf had sneaked through a whole village unnoticed by anyone and slipped out of Heaven like a clever cat. Almost unnoticed. 

„We have only one witness and they are unable to say anything detailed”, the scout explained „they are mute”

Leliana cursed under her breath. She expected the elf to leave them, or try at least. She knew that the animosity between their races would cause a problem, a few disagreements but to run without even considering talking first? Uncommon, but again, not surprising. What really surprised her however,  was Cassandra’s reaction to this report. She looked a little angry and frustrated, somewhat sad too but nowhere near furious as she expected. There was no righteous anger or table throwing. It’s as if she...˙

Leliana narrowed her eyes as she turned to her friend.

„You knew”, she whispered „you expected this to happen”  Cassandra nodded.  

Chancellor Roderick looked positively smug at the moment.

„I told you he was guilty. Would an innocent run like a coward?”, he turned towards the templars, „prepare your men to search for and catch the prisoner. He will be brought to the Capital for trial”. Cassandra decided she had enough.

„Disregard that and leave us”, said the Seeker and the Templars obeyed without hesitation. The scout, who was also dismissed, left the room and the door slammed shut behind him. The Chancellor’s smugness disappeared immediately, replaced by a hint of hurt pride and annoyance.  „You walk a dangerous path Seeker”, he said.

At that moment the door opened again and Cullen walked in with Josephine in tow. The Commander made an irritated face upon seeing the annoying priest but said nothing and took his place behind the table. Josephine did the same, letting the conversation flow for now.

Leliana was slightly angry at Cassandra at the moment.  „You knew he would run”, she accused „I suspected that would happen but you know something and did not share it with me. Why?”

„I didn’t think it was important at that time”, she retorted „I made a promise Leliana and I do not abandon promises lightly”. Leliana squinted her eyes. She huffed in a very un-ladylike fashion and turned around, pacing the room for a few second before returning with a much calmer expression.  „Nevertheless, the breach remains and his mark is still our only hope of closing it”.

In that moment the Chancellor decided to butt it his opinion, as if it still mattered at all.  „That is not for you to decide!”, he said with clenched teeth, probably seething in fury deep inside.   Cassandra suddenly threw her arms up and walked away to a small cabinet in the back of the room. She came back with an old thick tome, beautifully engraved and tailored. She walked up to the table and slammed the book with such force, that even Cullen took a step back and Josephine squeaked quietly in surprise.  Cassandra pointed her finger at the book.

„You know what this is Chancellor”, she said, a fire in her eyes. „A writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act”. The room felt silent in this moment and everyone held their breaths. Leliana knew what will happen now and despite her initial anger, she was excited, as were Cullen and Josephine.

„As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn!”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Meanwhile, many miles away from Heaven, Nazir hopped on a cart full of refugees ,who were all travelling towards the north probably trying to run away from the chaos. He snuggled between an old man and a young child with its mother, and released a long breath of relief. Some of the people took a look upon his tattered robes and sneered in disgust when the smell hit them. No wonder. He had to literary roll in the dirt to get out of the village and now he had dung smeared in some places on his cloak. A small girl squeezed her nose and said loudly that he stank like a dog. Her mother chided her immediately, though she probably thought the same thing. Nazir remained silent and looked for a river, or any familiar landscapes as the cart moved on.                   

While the horses plodded up the hill, he thought about the last few days. Everything has changed and yet so many things remained the same. He watched with interest as all the valleys, roads and plains he used to walk and run through, now looked like scorched remains of countless battles. Trampled pieces of grass, a broken tree, burnt huts and fields. The world fell into more chaos than before, mages and templars fought as viciously and violently with complete disregard for the innocents caught in their battle. The chantry lost control and his daughter... his precious daughter had to be moved away from the clutches of the bandit king. He didn’t want to test the man’s morality and hoped dearly the he didn’t sell her to some slavers. Nazir smirked under his nose at the irony. A bandit saving an innocent from other bandits.  He also thought carefully of his next step. They had to go somewhere safe and how was he supposed to accomplish that when nowhere was safe anymore? The smaller rifts still existed and many people in Haven will remember the face of a wanted man. He didn’t trust shemlen to play fair, but perhaps... perhaps he could join another mercenary band, like before?˙ A mixed band of outcasts, just like before.

There was also the matter of the mark. After stabilising the main rift and almost dying it seems as if its power fused with his hidden... abilities and now they were inseparable. He could feel its faint singing, a silent glow in the darkness. Nazir could swear his hearing and sight had improved, if only slightly and there was also that tiny tingling feeling at the back of his skull, whenever a rift was nearby. As if he was somehow attuned to them. It was something to contemplate for later.

 Soon enough, he spotted a hidden valley between the trees and to everyone’s relief, jumped off the cart and walked up towards the tiny road. The horses moved on, far into the distance and disappeared between the trees. He moved on as well.˙                   

Nazir trod lightly on the burnt grass. He saw a pair of dead mages under a huge bush, laying in a grim embrace like lost lovers. He ignored them, thought his senses smelled their odour, which grew stronger with the wind.

 He walked into the tight valley and then turned left into a small, narrow cave which was hidden behind a few big rocks. No one would find it, unless they knew what to look for. He snapped his fingers and nearly jumped out of his skin when a tiny spark turned into a burst of flame instead. „Huh... interesting”, he muttered under his nose, slightly disturbed at the sudden pyrotechnic display. He tried the same thing again, and again until through stubborn control of the fade, only a tiny spark emerged from between his thin fingers. That never happened before, and the thought of him becoming a mage because of the mark was more than a little disturbing.

He lit the way and encountered a pair of rabbits at the end of the tunnel, which scurried away in fright. He caught two of them and quickly snapped their necks. A bedroll, few rugs and bags, and a pair of necessities laid where they were left last time. Nazir grinned in relief. He knelt in the larger nook of the tunnel and started preparing bags for a long journey as well as the rabbits for a late night supper.

   Sneaking into the bandit fortress shouldn’t be too difficult, he thought, but that depends on what he’ll meet upon arrival.

He sat quietly and planned his actions while gratefully munching on the stolen bread, which he got form the mute elf back in Heaven.˙ It went a bit stale after a few days, but it sated his small hunger.

 

Cassandra marched through Heaven with her usual stiffness and serious posture, which reminded people why they shouldn’t piss her off. Her angry eyebrows, knitted together only added to her grave demeanour. Varric trotted behind with Bianca hanging on his back and he wondered how in the Maker’s name would they find the vanishing elf, who apparently decided that running away from the end of the world was the better option. Not that he blamed him.

“So, how are you going to bring our mighty saviour back to the fold? If you even know where he is, of course.” he tried to keep up with her pace but humans always had longer strides than dwarves, unfortunately.

Cassandra whipped her head around as if she had just noticed him walking behind her. “You don’t have to come Varric. In fact I remember telling you that you are free to go wherever and whenever you want.”, she retorted in a somewhat hopeful tone of voice.

“Hah, that almost sounds as if you don’t want me to be around. I’m hurt, seeker! Here I thought we were getting _literally_ closer, by the book as they say.” He said as he put his hand on the chest, near the heart to emphasise the joke.

Cassandra sighed in exasperation, which was a common reaction around the dwarf’s jovial comments. Varric thought she was going to keep arguing, but the Seeker turned and stomped forward, following the trodden path to Solas’s hut. The elven mage was standing outside at the moment with a very solemn gaze, looking pensively at the stable but ever glowing breach in the sky. When he saw her approaching, he nodded his chin gently in a peaceful greeting although the way his hands quickly hid behind was noticed by Varric. The elf was nervous for more or less obvious reasons.

“Lady Cassandra”, he greeted her.

“Solas”, she answered briskly, “We are moving out soon and I wanted to ask If you’d like to join us on our mission. Your healing abilities would be especially helpful.”

Solas narrowed his eyes and shifted slightly on his feet.

“You are asking, not requesting”, he noted.

She scoffed irritably as she realised that being associated with punishment and imprisonment was becoming a new annoying habit around. “Yes I’m asking. I’m also waiting for a quick answer. Are you coming or not?”

“I assume your mission is somehow related with the disappearance of your elven prisoner?”

Cassandra send him a scolding glare and glanced around very quickly. There was not a soul nearby but such information shouldn’t be spread around before Leliana’s cleverly put rumours took their course. Solas noticed her hesitation and quickly understood the situation. If the people found out that their Holy saviour disappeared leaving them all to their fate, fear and unrest would begun to spread again. The newly found Inquisition had to be seen as confident and in control.

“I will come. Let me pack a few things and I’ll meet you at the gates.”, he retorted. Seeker let out a quiet sigh of relief. The mage however, turned around for a brief moment and gave her a last narrow eyed look.

“I would be cautious when speaking with him, Seeker. There is much we don’t know about him.” Then he vanished inside his cabin.

Varric raised his brows in a momentary confusion. He had speculated shortly with Solas after returning to Heaven three days ago, the origins of their elven rogue. Where did he come from? What were his motives? Varric had left any fade and magic calculations to his friendly expert but among their shared observations they managed to find out some relevant information. However, it seems that Solas had found another theory, which he hid for whatever reason.

Cassandra looked at Varric suspiciously.

“Is there something I should know about?”, she asked.

“Oh, nothing. Me and chuckles just had a friendly chat about our mighty saviour and found some interesting facts.” He adjusted Bianca on his back and fiddled with his coat a bit. “Like the fact that he IS actually Dalish.”

They started walking down towards the gates together, but this time it was the Seeker who had to slow her gait to listen closer with curious attention.

“He is? How did you know?”

“Solas has found very faint scars on his face while patching him up. Almost invisible unless you knew what to look for. They were too swirly in some places to be just normal scars. Which means, that he either comes from an elven clan or he used to.” At that his voice dropped low. “No wonder he ran away.”

Cassandra’s gaze only hardened at the last retort. “It is a cowardly thing to do.”, she said “The war will not go away no matter how far you’ll run from it. Neither will the demons coming out of rifts.”

Her demeanour changed slightly for a short moment, as if remembering something important. “However, I can understand his decision to flee. He had… a good reason to go, though I hoped he would have stayed at least until I talked to him.”

The dwarf stopped suddenly and hold out his hand. He pointed a finger at her. “That, my dear Seeker, is exactly what we wanted to ask.” Before she could protest, looking around he continued. “You seem to hide the reason he had ran away and you refuse to tell us what we’re getting into. I don’t want to be a part of some prisoner hunt, just because the elf has a glowing hand that could save all our lives.”

“This is not a hunt and you better be quiet when we approach him”, she growled irritably. “Our task is to… assist the elf on his mission and return with him to the Inquisition as quickly as possible.”

Varric chuckled at that and shook his head. They have just passed the main road to the gates of Heaven and a pair of scouts saluted the Seeker, who marched forward with as much grumpiness as she could muster. The dwarf trotted not far behind.

“And how do you plan to convince him, that joining the armies of the faithful is a better option than hiding from the end of the world? Sing a chant?”, he joked.

Cassandra frowned even more and her hand slowly gripped the pommel of her sword.

“I can always stab his belongings”, she sneered. “It seemed to work with you.”

Varric grumbled a curse under his nose but understood when enough was enough. He wanted to prod her for some more information but that would be like poking an angry dragon with a stick. It was better to leave it be, for now.

Few short minutes later Solas emerged at the far end of the main road and joined them in a carriage where he put his rusty bag of belongings and supplies next to other’s bags. Cassandra ordered the driver to move forward and they rode on with a small group of soldiers. The journey was the most quiet and boring one that Varric has ever experienced and the atmosphere seemed more tense than usual. He hoped that Cassandra actually had a plan, and if not, he hoped his oral skills of persuasion hadn’t gone too rusty over the time he spent as a prisoner. Which fortunately wasn’t that long.

 

 

Nazir swore quietly. His original plan to sneak through the main barricade had been squashed as soon as he saw who stood at guard. Although he couldn’t identify every bandit in the fold by name, he certainly recognised all their faces. None of them were here, which meant that either there was an influx of new bandit recruits or something else happened entirely. If he tried to walk through there now, they would kill him on spot and ask questions later.

He swore and quietly moved back to seek another way inside.

 

The first encampment of the Inquisition was soon established in the Hinterlands. A row of Tents, tables and trained soldiers awaited Cassandra’s orders as she jumped from the cart, which arrived just a moment ago. Varric stretched his legs and trotted behind, listening closely to everything that transpired.

“Lady Seeker!”, a scout nearly jumped out of their skin when she approached.

“Where is the main scout of this encampment?”, she asked. A soft but slightly nervous voice emerged behind her.

“That would be me, Lady Seeker.” A small dwarven woman walked up between her and Solas, who moved aside to give her some space. “I’m glad you’ve finally arrived, but… where is the Herald? Wasn’t he supposed to come with you?”.

Cassandra exchanged glances with the rest of her team and they all nodded upon prior agreement. She turned towards her.

“The Herald moved ahead to scout nearby lands. We’ll be joining him shortly on a delicate mission that needs our attention.”

The dwarven woman seemed to contemplate her words carefully and she even narrowed her eyes before finally nodding in acceptance. “Should we wait before moving to help the refugees in the valley?”, she asked.

“Wait one day. If we won’t come back by then, move without us and we will join you later.”

“But, Lady seeker. We have information that the templars and mages are about to make this valley their main combat playground. If we won’t interfere by dawn, there might be no one to save.”

Cassandra frowned at that and looked towards the western mountain cliffs. She sighed heavily. The scout was right, but it was difficult to chose the right decision. She shouldn’t be the one to choose, it should have been Hawke or the Warden who already proved their ability in changing the world for the better.

“Prepare the soldiers and make sure the villagers are safe before anything happens. I’ll make sure to contact the Herald in time.”, she decided. “If we won’t be back in two hours, move without us and we’ll join the fight as soon as we can.”

The scout saluted and walked away to give out proper orders. Meanwhile Cassandra prayed the she made the right decision. She turned to her companions and noticed that the infuriating Dwarf was watching her keenly the whole time with his clever eyes.

“We have no time to lose. We must find the Herald or move without him, hoping for the best.” Said Solas. Varric agreed. “I think its time you told us what you know, Seeker. Unless we’re looking for the Herald with blindfolds on.”, he joked, but without the usual jovial tone.

“I made a promise to not tell anyone about his…secret. I know however, which way he is heading. There is a bandit fortress at the bottom of the mountains, a few hills away from the farmlands. It is hidden between rock valleys but he told me the way inside in case he…” she stopped abruptly, knowing the answer was obvious.

“In case he didn’t make it”, Varric finished for her. A small light of understanding was beginning to form in his eyes. “Whatever his secret is, It must be very personal.”

“It is”, she said shortly. “Let’s move out.”

They picked a few of the soldiers to accompany them on the way, then left on foot towards the valley in the hills, which led to the vast farmlands of Redcliffe.

 

Cassandra swore when they lost another man to one of the rifts which spat demons after walking within five metres in its vicinity. If crossing the Hinterlands was difficult before, it bordered on impossible now. Varric, in spite of his skilled shots could barely keep up with the number of enemies to kill and even Solas’s shields didn’t help. They fought bravely, although shortly only to move faster between the green hills. Cassandra knocked one demon down before it even got a scratch on the dwarf’s skin.

“Thanks! I owe you drinks later!”, he shouted through the screeching noise of monsters.

“Keep moving!”, she retorted loudly and helped him up. They started running very fast and they dashed past the whooshing sound of terror claws, dodging whisp spells until the last of the creatures screeched far away in the distance. They moved behind a large hill and managed to finally stop to catch their breaths. The few soldiers which remained alive were panting and gasping, even Varric had to lean against a tree for a short rest. Solas looked as if such marathon was nothing but a refreshing jog through the woods.

Lady Seeker patted the soldiers on their arms and passed one of them a healing potion. They appeared determined and grateful for the moral support.

“It isn’t far now.”, she said. “We must cross this path and a small fortress should appear somewhere here”

As they walked up a trodden path, suddenly Varric stopped and everyone looked at him curiously. They all narrowed their eyes.

“Wait”, he said quickly “We shouldn’t rush here.”

He walked forward very slowly and picked up something from the ground. It was a poorly made arrow with  slightly bent iron tip. The dwarf started looking around and one of the more observant soldiers joined him.

“He’s right Lady Cassandra. There seemed to be a battle here, and not between templars and mages.”

Varric found a more gruesome proof stuck on a nearby tree. A young bandit leaned dead, pinned to the bark by a long spear like a fly on a wall. His corpse started to attract local insects and some wildlife.

“Bandits. They fought each other, probably two factions trying to take another’s turf.”, the soldiers hushed quietly.

Cassandra walked up to the corpse and saw a young man, whose life had been ended too quickly in a cruel way. She muttered silent prayers and turned around to her companions.

“Let’s tread carefully here.”

As they marched on, Solas evened his pace to walk beside her. He looked solemn. The Seeker expected him to argue or demand they turn back from this impossible endeavour, but the elf only put his hand on her arm and squeezed gently, offering support and kind silence. She nodded.

The further they went, the more corpses littered the ground and it was clear now, that a battle have been fought between different mercenaries with various results. Helmets, broken spears and countless arrows stuck in the ground. The smell of decay was stronger here.

Solas crouched near one of the corpses and his eyes lit with magic. He stood up after examining the body.

“It happened yesterday. Everything is fresh and the veil is heavily disturbed in this place.”

Varric looked more worried than usual and he turned towards the Seeker. “Are you absolutely sure this is where he went, Seeker? Why would he go here?”, he asked confused. “Unless we’re dealing with a vengeful elf or a criminal.”

Cassandra’s lips formed a thin line. She clearly didn’t want to break whatever promise she made but this situation was getting more dangerous by the second and Varric, whose patience had its limits, decided to do a little pushing.

“So, let me get this right. He came here alone, which means he clearly knows these people, maybe even works for them. You wouldn’t protect a criminal however, no matter what so… what’s the real story behind this, Seeker?”, He prodded her while walking right next to her. “What is a Dalish elf doing in a very human bandit organisation?”

 She stopped abruptly and he almost run into her. Her eyes gleamed dangerously as she turned around to meet his gaze. She was about to respond in a very spiteful manner, when the soldiers suddenly shifted and formed a defence position. Her attention turned in the direction they pointed their swords at.

A hooded figure stood leaning against the rock wall of a hill. He played with a dagger, balancing it on the tip of his finger and then catching it with one swift movement. He slowly turned his head and then moved away from the wall to step towards the group in a slow pace. Closer and closer until he stood no more than a few metres away.

The soldiers lowered their swords when they noticed a soft green gleam on the strangers hand.

Cassandra saw a pair of pale blue eyes shining beneath the hood and the intense gaze sent a shiver down her spine.

“Come with me”, said Nazir.


End file.
